


Today Will Speak the Truth

by Lady_Vibeke



Series: Cara Dune & Din Djarin: Tales of Two Space Idiots in Love [15]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Adults Trying to Adult, Awkward Romance, Caretaking, Confrontations, Drunken Confessions, F/M, Feels, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Idiots in Love, idiots to lovers, soft idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:35:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24305995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Vibeke/pseuds/Lady_Vibeke
Summary: “Why did I wake up in your bed?” she wondered with a light scowl, then she suddenly turned to him, her eyes flashing wide open “We didn't-"The temperature flared under Din's helmet when he realised what she meant. He was a little offended she thought he would sleep with her when she was in such a sorry condition."No,” he replied, very firmly. “I sat you down to take your boots off and you got... comfortable.""As in...with you?"He wasn't looking at her but he could sense the shy chuckle that was curling her lips."I slept in your bed."Cara let out a weird sound that was half a snort and half a laugh, turning to him with a fond look."You just can'tnotbe a gentleman, can you?"Din had no idea how that could sound like a direct accusation and be so soft at the same time. He couldn't figure out if he was being reprimanded or complimented. It was always so hard to tell, with Cara.
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Cara Dune & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Cara Dune/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Series: Cara Dune & Din Djarin: Tales of Two Space Idiots in Love [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1709416
Comments: 16
Kudos: 167





	Today Will Speak the Truth

**Author's Note:**

> You guys asked for it, so here it is. Hope you're happy for distracting me for my other half a dozen WIPs. 😉

Din had been awake for hours, waiting for Cara to wake up. The kid had been up before her and in his company Din, imbued with a mysterious energy he had never felt before, had kept himself busy in the most unexpected ways, much to the kid's delight, at least until he had fallen asleep again after their stroll in the woods around the Razor Crest.

By the time Cara finally climbed down the ladder, the child was snoring like a blurrg and Din had just finished squeezing the juice out of half a dozen meilooruns.

Cara walked in with a wide yawn, looking sleepy and dishevelled, and quite adorably so.

“Mornin',” she greeted before another yawn took over.

Din tried not to stare at her naked legs as she sat down next to him and grabbed a slice of five blossom bread and stuck it into her mouth while pouring herself some of the juice.

"Morning,” Din greeted back, waiting with a smile on his face for her to realise today's breakfast looked nothing like their usual. “How are you feeling?"

"Hungover," mumbled Cara with the bread still stuck between her teeth.

“Unsurprisingly.”

“Yeah.”

Cara ripped the slice of bread from her mouth and chewed gingerly. Her cheeks were slightly pink and the left one was marked with the prints of the pillow's crinkles. Din thought it wasn't fair of her to look this beautiful straight out of bed, _with a hangover._

He let her finish her bread and take another slice, on which she piled a piece of veg-meat and some spicy sauce. She was two bites into it when her gaze finally took in the whole table.

She frowned.

"Are we expecting guests?"

Din casually straightened the knife next to the fork at the side of Cara's plate.

"No."

"What's with the princely meal?"

"I thought you'd be hungry,” he shrugged.

Normally, she would be starting to feel irked by his deliberate elusiveness; she was still drowsy enough to miss it, though, and this only added more mirth to Din's hidden smirk.

"You mean _starving,”_ she said, stuffing a big chunk of jogan into her mouth. “Why did I wake up in your bed?” she wondered with a light scowl, then she suddenly turned to him, her eyes flashing wide open “We didn't-"

The temperature flared under Din's helmet when he realised what she meant. He was a little offended she thought he would sleep with her when she was in such a sorry condition.

"No,” he replied, very firmly. “I sat you down to take your boots off and you got... comfortable."

"As in... _with you?"_

He wasn't looking at her but he could sense the shy chuckle that was curling her lips.

"I slept in your bed."

Cara let out a weird sound that was half a snort and half a laugh, turning to him with a fond look.

"You just can't _not_ be a gentleman, can you?"

Din had no idea how that could sound like a direct accusation and be so soft at the same time. He couldn't figure out if he was being reprimanded or complimented. It was always so hard to tell, with Cara.

He decided to get bold: "That's more or less what you said last night after you asked me if I was going to help you shower."

"In your dreams!" she scoffed, gulping down a whole cup of meiloorun juice like she had done the previous night with the beer. She seemed confident Din was lying, but the colour on her cheeks had intensified and her teeth biting into her lower lip betrayed a hint of doubt.

"It's true,” he insisted. He turned in her direction with his whole torso, an elbow resting on the table, and tipped his helmet to one side. “You also told me something else."

Cara arched her eyebrows. "Like what?"

"You really don't remember?"

"I don't remember _what?"_

Din's amusement faltered. Would it be honourable of him to make her face a confession she had spilled under the influence? Then again, not telling her would have been equally dishonest, because she would never know he _knew._

"I wish you remembered,” he sighed.

"Well, I don't, so,” she elbowed his side, “what did I say? Oh, kriff. Please, tell me I didn't bring up that old story about-"

"You told me you're in love with me."

Din cringed at his own bluntness: he hadn't meant to blurt it like that. He felt guilty, especially after seeing Cara freeze beside him.

"Why would I say that?" she asked in a vain attempt to sound playful. It didn't work. Not remotely. He had made her uneasy, which was the very opposite of his intentions.

"I don't know,” he had to admit. It was a mystery to him why a woman like her would even consider someone like him _and_ let him know. He had been willing to happily sulk and pine in silence for the rest of his life, after all. “You're the one who got drunk and chatty. I was a mere listener."

Cara regarded him intently, the large shirt she wore to bed hanging off her shoulder, exposing inches of milky skin and a very distracting clavicle Din was doing his best to gallantly ignore, not entirely successfully.

Cara fell into a wistful silence. She was nibbling at her lip, staring at the big fruit bowl Din had prepared for her as if she was expecting to find clarity in it. When she spoke, it came out as a breathless whisper.

"I really said that, didn't I?"

She didn't seem embarrassed so much as regretful.

"Yes." Din tilted his head from one side to the other, observing her curiously.

Cara closed her eyes and sighed.

"I am such an idiot.”

 _No, you're not,_ Din thought affectionately. If it hadn't been for her, they might have never faced this, and he was grateful she was braver than him.

“I don't suppose we can just pretend it never happened, right?" she asked, casting him a hopeful sideways glance, to which he responded with a shake of his head.

"I'd rather not."

Cara rolled her eyes with a huff.

"Figures."

She popped a couple of pieces of fruit into her mouth in the most dramatically annoyed manner he had ever seen. Typical Cara, trying to cover her vulnerability with theatrics.

Din shifted, raising a knee to sit across the bench. It took him a deep breath and a lot of courage to say, "I was under the impression you thought your... _feelings..._ were unrequited."

Cara's eyes shut in a pained expression. She took a hand to her forehead and massaged her temples with a feeble groan.

"I really don't want to have this conversation right now. No, wait, scratch that: I _never_ want to have this conversation."

"No conversation, then,” he conceded. “You did the talking, last night. I'll do the talking, now."

Cara pursed her lips for a couple of seconds, pondering quietly, then she suddenly straddled the bench to sit face to face with Din with a resolute expression.

"Okay.” She scooted closer by an inch or two until their knees touched. “Spill it,” she said. “Then drop me off on the first planet we come across and never come back. This fruit salad is amazing, by the way,” she added, picking up another chunk of fruit.

"Thanks,” he replied amiably. He could see the subtle smile she was struggling to conceal and felt encouraged. “I woke up at sunrise to pick the fruits. The kid helped."

Cara broke into a touched grin.

“My favourite boys in the galaxy. What's this all about, anyway?" she inquired with a nod to the plentiful table.

“I'm trying to get there. If you'll listen."

“I'm all ears."

"What if what you said you feel about me-"

Cara's features twisted into a sorrowful grimace.

“-was not unrequited?"

“Not funny,” she grumbled.

“Maybe slightly funny,” he argued, “since you spent most of last night mulling in utterly pointless self-commiseration.”

Cara pierced him with a warning glare that maybe was also slightly amused.

“Proof or it didn't happen.”

Din could barely stifle a laugh. He should have seen this coming.

“Then I guess it didn't happen.”

The smug way Cara smirked at him seemed to say _'That's what I thought,'_ but Din was determined to go through with it, no matter how fiercely she would try to joke her way out.

“I would have never mentioned this myself,” he said, “but since you brought it up, we might as well talk about it, don't you think?” He picked up the small jug from the table and neared it to Cara's empty mug. “Caf?”

“Yes, please.” She took the mug's handle and held it still. “Yes to the caf,” she clarified as he started pouring. “Not the other part.”

He kept quiet as she took a few sips. She brought her free hand to her temple and started massaging again.

“Headache?”

“Yeah, a little.”

“I'll get you something.”

Before she could say anything, Din stood up and went to grab some painkillers from their stash in the fresher. When he came back, Cara was still in the exact same position, eyes trained on his every move as he sat back and handed her a couple of pills, which she washed down with some caf.

“Thank you.”

Din granted her a couple of minutes of silence. He didn't know how he had been taking all of this for granted so far, sitting with her feeding the child as she had breakfast, their legs brushing as one got into the fresher and the other came out... How had he been so virtuous to refrain himself from touching her, all this time? Even now, he couldn't stop thinking about reaching out and brushing his fingers across the silky skin of her shoulder. For a Mandalorian who prided himself on his strength and integrity, he surely was ridiculously weak for this woman.

“I won't force you to talk about this if you don't want to,” he began, “but... you seemed like you really needed to let it out, last night.”

Defiant, Cara arched an eyebrow at him.

“And apparently I did, didn't I? Got it off my chest, out of my system. End of story.”

“Don't you think it's a bit selfish of you to dump such a shocker on me and just expect me to forget about it?”

For some reason, only now it seemed to occur to Cara that this wasn't a joke. Din's solemn tone make her look up at him with eyes wide in bewilderment.

“You mean it,” she breathed slowly, as if she couldn't believe it. “You... _care.”_

He smiled to himself. She couldn't even bring herself to use the actual words, but he wouldn't fault her for this. Baby steps.

“You're finally starting to pay attention. The caf must be kicking in.”

Cara moved even closer. Her knees pushed against Din's and she leant forward and, an inch from his helmet, muttered, “Say it.”

“What?” he retorted amusedly. “The thing I've been trying to say all along and you're refusing to hear?”

Cara poked a finger into his chest, blushing a little.

“Don't be insufferable.”

“Will you shut up and listen?”

“ _Fine.”_

“I'd never imagined I could share this life with someone – _anyone._ Probably because I couldn't have dreamed someone like you existed,” he said, but was immediately interrupted by Cara's snicker.

“ _Dreamed?_ Really?”

“You're not shutting up,” he snapped.

Giggling under her breath, Cara pressed her whole hand to his chest.

“Din, we're too old for this romantic banthashit.”

He froze. He didn't know if it was for the warmth of her touch against his skin or for what she had just said. Likely both.

Cara noticed and scowled quizzically at him.

“What?”

Din exhaled a weak, marvelled breath that vaguely resembled a laugh.

“You've known my name for months, but you never used it before.”

Cara's face fell. “I'm sorry, I didn't-”

“I'd like to hear it more often.”

“Oh.” As quickly as it had gone, the light came back to her face. “Okay.”

“So, provided we share mutual feelings...”

“This sounds so corny...” she whined, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Did I sound this corny when I spat it all out?”

“You sounded... honest.”

“Well, you can thank the booze for that.”

“You're still not shutting up.”

“I'm sorry.” Cara glanced down, fighting a small guilty smile. “I babble when I'm nervous. I'm not used to... bonding.”

“You and me both. And yet here we are.”

Din had no idea how it had happened or when, and how he missed it, but Cara's legs were dangling over his own, now, her body so close he could feel her heat upon every single inch of himself. It took her a while to gaze up again, so shyly it barely looked like her.

“So,” her hand was still on his chest; she slid it up with other one to rest them over his shoulders. “Are we going to entrust the future of this relationship to a couple of clumsy rookies?”

Din was vaguely shocked by this sudden boost in her confidence. His mouth went dry as he glanced down at _her_ mouth, thanking his helmet for providing a barrier between them. Without it, he wasn't sure he would have been able to resist the urge to kiss those inviting lips.

“I say we let them work things out along the way,” he suggested while a shiver ran down his spine at the thought of kissing her.

“What if they fuck up?”

Something took control of Din's hands, a will higher than his own conscience, and guided them on top of Cara's thighs. The feeling of her muscles under his palms nearly drove him blind with sudden arousal.

“I'm not an expert,” he said, “but I'm sure _fucking up_ is a requirement for growth.”

Her hands moved up the the sides of his neck.

“Your wisdom is really annoying,” she whispered, drawing his head down to herself.

Din obliged – pliant, _eager_ – and his breath caught in his throat when their foreheads met.

He saw her grin.

She _knew._ She knew what this meant for him. She knew what she was giving him.

Din's hands came up to cup hers. He stroked her, stroked her wrists, let his fingers wrap around them as though he feared she might slip away from him.

“What do you say, Dune?” he murmured, pulse climbing. “You up for a challenge?”

“You mean the scariest challenge of my darn life?”

He could feel her breath upon himself. He could breathe her in, her scent, her closeness. Now that he had her like this, he might never be able to let her go. Only thinking about standing one inch away from her felt like agony, right now.

“Mine, too,” he confessed.

He gently nudged her with his helmet and she nudged back, a soft brush of her nose over the middle of his visor, smiling.

“Let's do this, Djarin,” she whispered, the dimples in her cheeks deeper than ever. “Whatever happens, I guess it's worth it.”

The need to kiss her was still there – a thirst, perhaps, or a hunger, rather than a mere need, something more visceral and infinitely more inescapable. He tried not to think about it. Enough had been said and done for the day. There would be a time for kissing – a better moment and a better place; for now, he would be content with what they had just achieved.

After a while Cara pulled back, making Din's heart ache at the sudden separation. He felt a gentle tug at his helmet as he opened his eyes.

“Now,” said Cara. “How about you take this thing off and share all of this with me?”

Din didn't want to eat. He wanted to sit here with her and stay tangled with her forever. But sharing breakfast with her was something intimate and new, and he was only happy to reply, “I'd love to.”

Without being asked, Cara whirled over to face the opposite way across the bench. Din did the same, then pulled his helmet off and set it down on the table among the bowls and dishes.

Two minutes later, he and Cara were propped back to back next to the table, her head and his slotted side by side as they ate. Din could feel in his ear the crunch of the piece of dried mallow she was chewing and realised she could probably feel him gulp down the caf, too.

“I thought this would feel more awkward,” mused Cara at some point, resting her head back on his shoulder.

“We're not doing anything that much different than usual,” he objected, though he could actually see her point. This felt surprisingly natural.

Cara gave a faint shrug.

“I know but... You know, there's _awareness,_ now.”

“You're saying we're too old to be romantic but not old enough to be comfortable with each other after admitting we're in love?”

“Oh my stars, you _said that!”_ she exclaimed in an oddly high-pitched voice that made Din want to laugh.

“Stop being puerile,” he chided, forcing himself to stay serious, but Cara just went on and started chanting:

“ _Din and Cara are in lo-ove, Din and Cara are in lo-ove...”_

Din attempted to turn his laughter into a groan and failed spectacularly, so they both ended up laughing, their backs shaking against one another as the very sound of their laughter reverberated through their chests.

He couldn't remember ever feeling so light and so free.

“What did I get myself into.”

“You knew what you were signing up for, buddy,” she teased, and he assumed she didn't realise that, despite that being true, he had never really believed any of this would ever be possible.

“Yes,” he said, letting his head fall back against her shoulder with a big, fat grin. “I guess I did.”

**Author's Note:**

> What was this? Cara and Din actually talking like (kind of) functional adults? *le gasp* This was almost a decent display of mature and reasonable emotional confrontation. Aren't we proud of our beautiful dorks? I certainly am. ❤
> 
> Thank you so so much to all of you who commented the first installment! 😘 Keep the love coming, yeah? 😍


End file.
